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murdrdocs · 2 months

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stiles deserves road head fs

reader has hair long enough to tie back; MDNI 18+

there were times when you absolutely hated stiles' jeep.

it wasn't particularly fit for road trips, even without considering the unreliability of the engine and stiles' handiwork of duck tape temporarily keeping things together. compared to lydia's car for example, the seats were stiff and barely allowed for any sleeping room. leaving you sitting upright with your head resting against the window and knocking into the metal of the interior any time stiles' ran through a pothole.

but there were times when the truck had redeemable qualities, namely the lack of a center console.

sure, it would've been nice to have something to rest your hand on as you wrapped your mouth around stiles' cock. but really, beggars couldn't be choosers and in this scenario both you and stiles were beggars.

so stiles drives a little smoother, settling on the outside lane to leisurely cruise instead of being pressured by trucks bigger than his in the inside lane. and this way, he gets to enjoy your lips sliding up and down his cock, and you aren't facing the plausible threat of losing your grip on the seat next to stiles' thigh and hitting the floor.

it's as comfortable as you can get. one hand pressed into cracking leather with the other resting on stiles' thigh. your seatbelt more of a decoration than anything as it loops around your body in a way that allows you to kneel on the seat, your ass turned towards the window. stiles' has one hand resting on your back between the end of your sweatshirt and the beginning of your leggings. the other rests on the steering wheel, effectively opening his body up to your work.

the tape in the radio has long ended, leaving space for the music from stiles' lips to fill the area. the sound of his breathing, deep sighs nearly each time you went down. the sound of his grunts each time you came up and swirled your tongue around him.

he tries to praise you every so often, but stiles' brain can only handle so much stimulation. and focusing on the road while also focusing on you is all he can take, leaving him to utter unfinished sentences.

"doing so ..."

"jesus, you're so ..."

"mhm, right ... right t–"

your hair has been tied back since the first half hour of the trip, but between your intense sing-alongs and your less intense naps, only half of your hair remains in the tie, leaving stiles to push your hair back, holding it off of your face.

in an attempt to thank him without sacrificing his pleasure, you look up at him and smile as best as you can. but since your mouth is occupied, the look transfers mostly to your eyes.

you don't know what does it, but stiles glances down at you, stares into your eyes for less than a minute, and then grips your hair as his hips jerk up into your mouth, his foot slams down onto the gas pedal, and he cums right down your throat.

#received: jan 8 2024 #stilesworld!#stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski smut #celeste writes misc

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stainedglassthreads · 11 months

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One thing I think I just realized is, in addition to being dissatisfied with how stories deal with Toriel’s grief compared to Asgore’s and Asriel’s, and how I don’t see many instances of Toriel and Asgore’s quarrel being addressed in a way that satisfied me... I don’t think I see that many AUs that quite get the responsibility Asgore feels... right.

Yes, I’ve seen several that portray his grief, depression, and how badly he doesn’t want to be in this position well, even if it’s disappointing how not everyone seems to be aware of what you learn about him in a Neutral run where you’ve previously killed Flowey. A lot of people can get aspects of his characterization very well, the broken man, the goofy dad, the intimidating monarch. But I think the reason I don’t see people capture the weight of his responsibility quite as well in fanfics and comics is... well. Oddly enough it’s in the way the monsters treat him.

It’s not just the fandom that has issues with idolizing or demonizing characters. It’s also the Kingdom of Monsters themselves--and they all idolize Asgore. Yes, he’s a very grounded and compassionate individual who invites his subjects to share all their problems with him, and who Papyrus insists will just let you pass through the Barrier. But he’s also a bit of the subject of a cult of personality for his subjects. When they say he’ll absorb seven souls and become a GOD, it’s not an expression of his arrogance, but rather their own adoration. While out-of-universe the Angel is generally agreed to be either Asriel or Chara(or us), in-universe I wouldn’t be surprised if Asgore was considered the Angel.

It’s not long now. King Asgore will let us go. King Asgore will give us hope. King Asgore will save us all.

Yes, individual monsters may want to collect a human soul for their own individual wants and desires. But it’s only the capture of a human soul, or using a single soul for their own benefit, that they really aspire to. (With the exception of Toriel, who wants no souls, and Flowey, who is Flowey.) Of those area bosses who earnestly try to take just one soul, Papyrus and Undyne both want to hand you over to Asgore, and Mettaton wants to protect humanity FROM Asgore. Literally everyone in the Underground seems to fully believe that Asgore will be the one taking all the Souls and fulfilling his promises, and all are content. (Again, barring Toriel, MTT, Flowey.) No one seems to ever doubt he’ll do as he says, even his ex-wife, and no one’s greedy to take the power for themselves or take the burden of being a savior for themself, except his kid who has both a God Complex and a Savior Complex.

With Chara, and with Asgore. They take a person and turn them into a representation of something More than any singular person could ever be. And then in the worst route Chara does it again, to themself. Asgore is freedom and salvation and retribution itself, and everyone including the woman who was once married to him agrees and reinforces the role. Chara is the feeling of a number going up, and the fandom agrees and reinforces the role.

And I dunno. There are fics and AUs where Asgore never lost his kids and always remained an affable, friendly guy. There are AUs where Asgore is the main antagonist and an awful villain with few redeeming qualities. There are fics and AUs where Asgore gets to recover in a post-pacifist setting. But I’m not sure any fics or AUs have ever quite captured how everyone else just talks about the guy, for me. Toriel is simply ‘intimidating’. But Asgore is a GOD.

#undertale #undertale analysis #undertale meta #asgore #asgore dreemurr #this is why i think in post-pacifist asgore should live far away from all his subjects for a few years #be a normal guy. no responsibilities. let them calm down about the unwanted god-king stuff #like i've seen many stories successfully make asriel or chara feel othered and idolized by the underground but #somehow not asgore as much despite how everyone in-game treats him as a personification of his declaration of war #and lets that be the FIRST thing that influences how they treat him #even undyne to some extent. she's so psyched to free monsterkind. to get him to free monsterkind

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saylessastrology · 1 year

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Favorite Moon Placements/Signs/Aspects 🌝🌙🌛

Moon In Sagittarius:

okay, I’m biased because this is my placement but we are so liiiit! We make great friends! This placement makes the person super straightforward and optimistic! Like we give a fuck but only for a short amount of time. But don’t piss us off because our mouths are foul! We will be mad and vengeful one moment then get bored with the situation the next LoL

Moon in Aries:

This placement is bold af! They don’t hold back on their opinions or emotions. When they are emotionally triggered just let them get it out! Suppressing this placement will result in some serious repercussions! My coworker has this placement and when she has a bad day EVERYBODY KNOWS! You can see the smoke coming out of their ears lol. But they are sooo loveable and warm! They give great hugs too!

Moon in Libra:

These people are so peaceful and pleasant lol. They may have trouble deciding on what to wear or what place to eat but they are never one to make a big fuss out of things. They believe emotions should be expressed in beautiful ways. Even their arguments have a “let’s solve this” tone.

Moon in Cancer:

I truly think these people are the most fiery of the water signs! They are soft and cuddle until you trigger them. I also think they are so moody because of the many phases of the moon always changing. You’ll know when they are pissed. The way they go off is like someone’s fed-up mother who’s about to whoop your ass! Lol scary stuff

Moon in 8th house or Scorpio:

I love these placements because these people really know how to connect emotionally with their loved ones. They love and feel deeply. The way they protect their loved ones is soo cute like a mamma bear defending their cubs. They have so much emotional self-control until they can no longer suppress it.

Moon in 5th house or Leo

(biased again hehe) These people are FUN! We love a good time and tend to come alive when we are out on the town! In our opinion emotional expression should feel fun and dramatic! When we get emotional we expect your full attention or we will feel neglected and ignored! We are the type of friend to drunkenly shout “omg I like be you guys!” to our friends in a quiet public area and you BETTER say it back or we will cry lmao

Moon trine/sextile/conjunct Mars

These people are naturally impulsive but their intentions are perfectly lined up with their emotions. It’s not that they don’t think before they act, they just believe their actions are justified based on the emotions they feel. I notice many women with this placement are real “girls girls” who know how to make and balance friendships with women and men equally because their masculine and feminine energies do not throw each other off.

Moon aspecting Neptune

These people must to be protected at all times! ❤️ They are so soft and sensitive to the world around them. They can pick up on your hidden emotions and verbally translate them in mystical ways you’ve never thought of. They see things differently from everyone else. They can find the most redeeming qualities in even the worst people. They also tend to forgive and forget waay too soon.

Moon aspecting Saturn or Capricorn moon

Rather it be a hard or soft aspect these people are extremely emotionally determined individuals. They possess the emotional strength to bound back from life’s most challenging obstacles. I love how sweet and mature these people are when it comes to expressing their emotions. Even when they are in a heightened emotional state, they still have control over their reactions. This is another placement that needs a hug because they are SOOOO hard on themselves for simply being human and feeling emotional. They may have grown up with an emotionally suppressive parent or guardian that taught them that their emotions are not as important as others. BREAK FREE MOON/SATURN! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ You deserve emotional freedom too!

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waves-against-a-cliff · 7 months

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Abience - Konig x Reader

abience

(n.) the strong urge to avoid someone or something

Length - 1.2k

Content - self loathing, avoidance, military inaccuracies, enemies to lovers slow burn, reader had callsign, no use of Y/N, very little description of readers body.

A/N - I’m so tired but I got this out for you ❤️❤️

Taglist - @lupe222crybaby @princess-pippin

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

You sat in the uncomfortable waiting area chairs, the pounding in the back of your head and the pain in your ribs only worsening as the minutes worn on. You kept your eyes strictly to the floor and pretended like you couldn’t feel his gaze flicker to you every half minute. His gaze felt like lead and water, suffocating and heavy. The uniform was only encouraging this suffocating feeling that threatened to squeeze out every precious bit of air. Was your head always ringing? Did the floor look that blurry a few minutes ago?

“Birdy.”

You looked up and you couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or something else. Your gaze finally finds the nurse that carried a clipboard, an impatient smile on her face. Right, you were at the medical area. Slowly you stood from the chair and tried to not show how weak your knees were in this moment. The white walls reflected the fluorescent lights in a way that was beyond painful as you sat on the elevated cot bed thing as the nurse took note of your temperature and blood pressure. She had written down the bruise on your chest quickly and your heart squeezed a little.

The doctor was quick, like usual. He never stuck around any longer then he had to, didn’t help that there were probably notes in your file about less then pleasant reactions towards others. “I’m going to prescribe a low dose of pain relief. I recommend a heating pad for your chest and lay off the sparring for the next week or so.” And with that he shooed off, probably to attend to the giant that sat scrunched over in the waiting room chair still when you walked out.

He looked ridiculous like that, trying to hide his height. Trying to make himself appear smaller when the task was impossible and just made him look idiotic. “Sit up straight, you look stupid.” You muttered quickly as you walked quickly out of the medical area with the note for Captain Price.

You knocked on the door once before Captain Price told you come in. Wasting no time, you held out the note to him, “Doc said no more sparring for a week.” Price raised a brow and sat up completely in his chair, the lamp beside him illuminating his face and highlighting the dark circles underneath his eyes. He took the note from your extended hand gently and looked over it, his lips pursed as he confirmed it was genuine. You could see the gears turning as he thought.

And you knew what.

“Alright, no sparring.” He conceded and put the note on his desk, you didn’t even bother to relax. He hadn’t even said ‘but’ yet but it hung in the air. “So you and König will practice in the sniping range.”

Oh fuck me

You gritted your teeth and nodded, “Understood sir.”

“Give the man a chance Birdy. He’s a fantastic insertion specialist.” Captain Price said.

You were going to strangle him. Both of them. Strangle Price for pairing you up with a man who can’t sit still like a proper sniper and strangle König for not trying to.

“Do you need-“

“I don’t need you to show me again.” He snapped, the most he’s said in one sentence since the two of you had started. His only redeeming quality was that he was excellent spotter. You pursed your lips but said nothing as he fired off another shot, the ear protection being the only reason the two of you weren’t deaf. You looked through the small hand held scoop to see his hit and clenched it until you heard it starting to snap a little, immediately loosening your grip. It was barely an improvement and you hated the way he looked at you, like he was expecting something.

Praise? Another insult? Couldn’t this day just end already? You sigh, “Let’s keep going, that was an improvement.”

“Nein.” He grumbled and sat up, stretching his lengthy body. “Let me teach you something.” You roll your eyes so hard it hurts a little but you don’t decline. Anything to get out of this purgatory of constantly dealing with his fidgeting and readjusting. A few minutes later you’re holding an assault rifle, a weapon you rarely ever got the opportunity, the privilege, to hold. The weapon is heavy but no where near the weight of your sniper rifle put away in its locker.

König looked at the way you held the automatic rifle and your stance while you tried not to focus on the sheer weight difference. Or the fact that this gun must weigh practically nothing to him. Or how he was- He tapped your foot a little bit to the side before he nodded. “Have you ever used one before?”

“Have I- Of course I have. Just not a while.”

Your aim needed some work but you tried not to think too hard on that fact. Or the fact that König had gotten more comfortable trying to be near you. Suddenly, you were having to go out of your way just to avoid the suddenly clingy giant. Just three more days, you told yourself that morning right before your customary butt-crack-of-dawn run. Quickly, you rushed into the mess hall to grab your breakfast and get out as quickly as possible.

The once ease that this routine had given was long gone. Not when you had to plan around the possibility of running into him. It wasn’t like he didn’t have others to train with. He wasn’t out of sparring with the others, just with you as his partner.

“Are you avoiding me?”

You jump a little, tilting your head up to meet the icy blue eyes that you had come to know. “Do you have to sneak up on me?” You snap and his eyes narrow.

“So you are.”

“Not everything is about you König.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

“You’re fucking insufferable.” You grumble and push past him, intent on heading off somewhere. Where you did know yet but away from him, just to eat in peace. He grabs your arm and pulls you back yet keeps you steady so your food isn’t spilled onto the concrete floor.

“Don’t act like that.” Just as you’re about to retort he speaks again, “We were getting along.”

“I wouldn’t call that getting along, more like walking a very narrow edge.” You scoff and try to pull your arm from his grip but it only tightens, pulling you even closer.

“Your week is almost up.” He warned and the words that had yet to come from his mouth felt heavy in the air. “I think Price has gotten another mission from the higher ups.” He lets go of your arm and you quickly walk away from him as his words repeat in your head. More importantly, how could he be sure? You scratched at your arm after you sat down, the weight of his words refusing to leave you be.

#konig x reader #konig x you #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #könig x y/n #könig x you #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig cod

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breathlesslink · 9 months

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Chapter Six — Rusty

[chapter warnings: anxiety, paranoia]

t.o.c ; << | >>

By the time you had made it to Wetland Stable, you were exhausted.

The entire ride you were jumpy and on edge, looking around the area constantly in search of threats. Every traveler that passed you along the road made your stomach twist as if you were just anticipating them to pull out a weapon and charge. If Link noticed anything, he hadn't mentioned it.

You felt guilty for your sudden behavior change. You were slightly snippy with your words every time he'd talk, but you didn't mean any harm. It was just harder for you to listen for anything if you were talking.

Impa's words echoed through your head, telling you to let Link in. She was right— if there was one person who could protect and help you, then it was the Champion of Hyrule. But on the other side, Link had so much on his shoulders already. You couldn't possibly add another burden onto his shoulders.

There was already a sizable crowd surrounding the cooking pot of the stable when you and Link arrived, one person apparently choosing to cook for everyone present. You were grateful, but Link may not have been.

"It's so nice of them to cook for everyone," He mused, waiting for you as you seemingly obsessively checked your weapons, "I doubt it's as good as yours, though."

"Awe, you like my cooking?" You teased, "You're lucky. All the women in Gerudo say that a girl should only cook for a man if he's her husband as a show of care. I guess you just get special treatment."

Link laughed. "I'd marry you if it meant delicious food every night."

"Is that my only redeeming quality?" You feigned offense, deciding to ignore the tingle in your stomach at his words. "Just a servant over a stove?"

"N-no!" Link backtracked suddenly, taken aback. It seemed like he didn't get your joke. "You're great--you're perfect. It would just be a perk, but if you didn't even want to cook you wouldn't have to--"

"Link!" You burst into laughter, "I was joking! You know I'd cook for you. Your compliments fuel my ego, so I have to in order to get my fill of self-assurance."

Link rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder, unable to contain his own smile again. "You're ridiculous. Let's eat."

Link led you to the cooking pot, the area now cleared as everyone had already gotten their bowls of dinner. You both thanked the stable worker as he poured you bowls of rice and meat, choosing to sit on a log further away from people to eat. It was a comfortable silence and eventually, Link decided to explore the shrine near the stable. He stood before you for nearly ten minutes, making sure you were okay with him leaving while you continuously reassured him that you were. It took you turning him around and pushing him towards the shrine to seal the deal, and you watched with a little relief as he disappeared into the entrance.

Maybe he did notice, after all.

Nevertheless, you were glad he didn't mention it.

Shrines tended to take Link around an hour or two to finish, so you decided to bide your time with the few, worn training dummies at the back of the stable. It was obvious that they hadn't been used in a while, but you hadn't trained since you began your journey and were feeling rusty. This time, plus your incessant paranoia, seemed like the perfect time to do so.

You took out your Demon Carver and just held it in your hand, the grips falling into your palm perfectly. Your other hand felt empty, seeing as how you'd usually have two while fighting with the Yiga, but you'd broken the other four years ago when you betrayed them. You'd have to deal with one for now.

Taking a breath, you fixed your stance and took a few tentative swings at the air. Muscle memory kicked in, the brutal training you endured coming in handy. You felt warmed up enough soon after and sliced your blade upwards, leaving a deep groove in the wooden dummy from its hip to its shoulder. The second you landed the hit, you flipped back to create distance and pulled out your bow, barely taking a second to aim before your arrow punctured the dummy directly between the eyes.

It was no surprise how similar your fighting style was to that of a Footsoldier. You had to perfect that style before advancing to Blademaster and while your advanced training had gone far, you still weren't as skilled with a Windcleaver as you were with your bow and Demon Carver. Even then, you weren't the best with a bow. Hiro took the cake in that.

His aim was unmatched and entirely accurate as if he'd had some innate biological talent within him to handle a bow. Hiro beat you at target practice, but you beat him with blades. Kimi, still so young when training began, only knew the basics of hand-to-hand and small daggers. You missed them.

Not too much time had passed before you heard footsteps behind you. You knew it was Link, your senses being heightened with adrenaline. He had approached mid-move and stayed out of your way as you swung the Demon Carver with expertise, the training dummy nearly torn to shreds at this point. You stood back and admired your work, as if the destroyed wood was a canvas and you were the artist.

"Guess I don't have to worry about you as much as I thought." Link finally spoke up.

"I told you," You shrugged. You sat on the dirt, your legs feeling like jelly as you tried to catch your breath. You were out of shape. "You just didn't believe me."

"I believed you!" He defended, "I just didn't think you were that good. Where did you learn how to fight with that weapon? I've never seen it anywhere other than with the Yiga before."

"A Demon Carver?" You fumbled for a second to come up with a lie. "Olu, one of the Gerudo ladies who took me in, defeated one once when we were out. I'd been training for a while and didn't like any of the weapons I had, so when I tried out the Carver I loved it."

Link tilted his head. "Is there like a specific way to fight with it? A lot of the moves you used were similar to the Yiga."

Your heart was in your throat and you prayed he couldn't hear it pounding as much as you did. "I mean I learn by observing, so when I watched their fighting style I took some parts of it. It requires a lot of agility and speed, which I'm good at, so it worked."

"Ah," Link hummed, holding out his hand in an offer to help you up. "Makes sense. Maybe you'll have to teach me one day."

"Of course, hero. Just tell me when." You grabbed his hand and hoisted yourself up, but Link quickly moved forward. His fingers suddenly dug into your sides and you shrieked out a laugh. You didn't even know you were ticklish.

"How about right now?" Link was relentless, laughing as you began to collapse back down as an attempt to escape. "Come on, get out!"

You wheezed, squeezing out the only words you could during the relentless onslaught. "I can't!"

#botw link #breath of the wild #breath of the wild x reader #daruk #link #link x you #loz link x reader #link x reader #botw link x reader #mipha #urbosa #revali #sidon #botw x reader #fanfic

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ddarker-dreams · 2 years

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Fire & Brimstone. Yan Alucard x F Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, religious themes (specifically relating to Judeo-Christianity), blasphemy, some not SFW implications. Word count: 2k.

You are an instrument of the divine.

However, unlike the shortsighted design of the mortals, you are not limited to any one role. In the Divine Father wills it, you shall sing hymnals in the balcony, sound the drums of the percussion, breathe new life into the woodwinds and brass, and caress or shred the strings according to His tempo. You made good on every order you were charged with, whether it be delivering messages in dreams or wielding a flaming sword so that fallen mankind could not reengage paradise.

This was your testimony, the crowning jewel of existing before the earth itself was formed.

You thought you had done well as a good and faithful servant — brought glory to the one most high.

So why is it when you need Him most, your director has left the stage, leaving you without a baton to follow?

“I see you haven’t bothered messing with your bind’s enchantments in some time,” a baritone voice notes. He has been here longer than he’s seen fit to speak, you know this well, the tangible miasma of malignity permeating the air. The reprobate continues, unbidden as always, “I told you long ago that it’d be no use, didn’t I? If only you had believed me then, you could’ve saved yourself the trouble. Deceit isn’t in my nature.”

He who dwells in the dark encroaches on you from numerous angles, having not yet taken a physical form. Tickling your sides, breathing on the back of your neck, applying the slightest pressure to your chest. Your eyes aren’t blindfolded but they might as well be. He won’t let you see him until he decides it’d humor him. So you’re left unsure of where to look, or glare, to be more accurate; instead alternating your attention between the areas his voice resonates the most.

You lift your head from its resting position to respond. “Should I count you among the saints for this redeeming quality of yours?”

“I’d prefer you didn’t. Their sins might just eclipse mine, especially those of Roman Catholic inclination.”

It wasn’t the audacity of his words or even the blasphemy that stirred you to malady, but the sheer nonchalance that grates your insides like you swallowed barbed wire. He speaks not just to get a rise from you, but to show each unique angle of his depravity, the geometry of which astounds its viewer. Saying these things meant nothing to him. It neither vindicated him nor brought him closer to any goal. No, it is a hedonistic taunt unlike what even the demons would partake in. For they had, twisted as it may be, a vision in their minds to achieve, an apex to reach. Hence their conniving ways.

Not him — Vlad the Impaler, Alucard, Dracula. This isn’t a battle, but the victory feast that follows a successful conquest. He has what he wants.

For he has you.

An angel whose wings, though intact, may not fly; upward and away to the welkin above that is your rightful dwelling place.

There’s a shift in the air. Freezing temperatures bite at your exposed skin and pressure comparable to that which humans experience deep underwater weighs down on you, yet you have no way to defend yourself. The second you draw forth from the well of your innate abilities, it’s absorbed by esoteric runes scrawled alongside the dimension he holds you captive in, the now shining glyphs hungrily lapping up your power.

The runes revert to a dull outline when you give up, feeling drained and utterly vulnerable.

When you gather the strength to reopen your eyes, regret overwhelms you, yet you cannot find the strength to look away.

Alucard sits mere feet away from you on a throne befitting his bottomless avarice. Golden embellishments twist and turn alongside it in elaborate carvings, reminiscent of the era in which he ruled, its cushions deep velvet and plush. His hair is long strands of black, darker than the night sky when no stars are visible. The longer you look, the more convinced you feel that the ends slightly move, as if in a hypnotizing dance. His pallid complexion suits his supernatural inclination, not the slightest flush of life dusting his cheeks. This is compensated for by his billowing frock coat, which boasts a deep crimson hue whose shade is only challenged by the glow of his unblinking eyes.

He drums his long fingers alongside the throne’s arm while resting his chin on his fist. When he speaks, his voice deep enough for shivers to envelop your body, you note the pointedness of his teeth.

“Your thoughts still persist of nothing but a God who has forgotten you, cast you aside for a salivating beast such as myself to do with as I please. Does this not challenge your faith? Are you a fool blinded by ignorance, or a willing victim who’d rather ignore the truth than risk facing reality?”

“My God has not forgotten about me,” is your firm retaliation.

Alucard smiles without a hint of kindness.

“No, he remembers, yet here we are, your prayers unanswered and your cheeks wet by the constant flow of tears. Would you not say that’s worse? For him to know of your suffering and still not come to your aid?”

The chains securing you in place rattle as you fight against them, incensed by his remarks. Instead of surrendering the second you feel too much vitality leave your body, you persist, searing hot pain greeting you in abundance. The pain grows like a crescendo that’s doomed to never reach its peak. Overexertion has you sweating blood, still, you do not stop, his despicable physiognomy spurring you on.

Eventually, he shakes his head and sighs. The pentagram etched into his glove gleams an otherworldly color. With this, he seals your power in its entirety, putting a premature end to your fruitless retaliation. There’s no more energy for you to wring out of yourself. For whatever reason, he allowed you the small dignity of maintaining your divine expression, perhaps to further cement the insurmountable gap in your abilities.

“What is it with pious folk and their obsession with self-induced pain?” He wonders. “You’re no better than the flagellants of old.”

“Did you come here for the sole purpose of mocking me? Is that how you derive your pleasure these days, Count?”

“In part. You must believe me when I say this isn’t my ultimate design, sweet Seraph. It is you who draws this out, prideful thing that you are.”

The jab at your supposed pride is ignored in favor of understanding his more wicked statement. His point about never having technically lied to you stands true, loath as you are to admit it, though that doesn’t mean he won’t start now. Sick premonitions flood your mind. Is there worse damnation awaiting you? Was this but an appetizer of the anguish to come?

“Oh? Does this frighten you, little dove? You’re trembling.”

He’s right. The chains shake in a shrill cacophony, just for a different reason than before.

In the blink of an eye, he is before you, his towering height causing a shadow to eclipse your shivering form. The smooth fabric of his gloved fingers caresses your skin. He lifts your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze. Those eyes that have witnessed untold bloodshed swirl with indiscernible emotions. The air in your lungs matters little. Despite its presence, you think you might be drowning.

“Or could it be… that it is I who frightens you so?”

Who wouldn’t be, when the devil himself locked the doors of hell to bar this creature’s entry?

“... Unhand me at once, you have no right to touch my person,” the weak glare you send his way earns nothing but amusement. The squeaking mouse caught inside the lion’s claws lacks the backing to make such bold demands.

“It is a new millennium that we live in, [First]. Such archaic systems are no longer in place,” a tongue too long to be normal wets his lips. Every muscle in your body goes rigid as if you were entering rigor mortis upon sensing his caprice. “I jest, dear, I jest. I have prolonged ravishing you for this long. What are a few centuries more?”

His pointer finger plays with your bottom lip. “I wonder if you could withstand such a lengthy imprisonment. In this form, you’d feel each second drag by, occupied by your thoughts and nothing else. There would be no reprieve, not a singular instance of relief. I’d go so far as to say you’ll look forward to entertaining my company, since it’s the only company you’ll have.”

Give not into temptation. Do not ask what you must do to be freed from this purgatory. He won’t tell you unless you make the query. He wants you to ask. To lower yourself to his level so he may satisfy himself with your humiliation. Temptation is the most blistering when you know that, no matter how hard you try to convince yourself, there are two paths that you could take. You want to convince yourself that there is no other choice. His assessment of calling you a willing victim to ignorance would ring true should you try.

“To avoid this…” there is only a single set of eyes staring at you, but you feel as if there are thousands, “What must I do?”

Alucard’s subsequent face-splitting grin is every bit as grotesque as you feared it would be. His chest rumbles, laughter erupting from his form. There’s nothing that you can do but take it. This embarrassment is uniquely painful, since you brought it on yourself.

“I thought you’d never ask. Dear girl, remind me, what was the first thing your god said not to be good regarding his creation?”

The answer comes easy, even if you don’t fully understand where he’s going with this line of questioning.

“He said it was not good for man to be alone.”

He nods, content by your obedience. You try not to dwell on the fact.

“And how did he rectify that?”

“By giving him a wife��”

You cut yourself off, your eyes going wide enough to sting, harrowing realization settling in. “Surely… you couldn’t possibly mean to…!”

This is unheard of. A desecration so profound that history itself had never encountered anything like it.

“Take you as my bride? Yes, that has been my intention from the beginning, I plucked you from the sky for that very reason. Cruelty may be all you’ve ever known from me, but I am perfectly capable of benevolence. Bind yourself to me for eternity. Worship me and I will worship you in return. Is this not a more pleasing arrangement than your previous affiliation? You worked so hard for a master who has forsaken you.”

“He hasn’t… no, he wouldn’t…”

Physical ailment and internal malaise plagues you. There is no cure, no antidote to soothe the insults you’ve suffered by his unrelenting verbal assault.

“What makes you so convinced? Did he not grant Mephistopheles permission to torment Faust in the same way I’m tormenting you?”

“It was a trial — yes, a trial — to prove man can overcome evil. You are twisting things! Forcing them to align to further your goals! Do not turn your back on me, you fiend, I will interpret it as you admitting defeat.”

Alucard takes his time getting comfortable in his throne, which is now a few measly feet away. He reclines while you continue verbally admonishing him. It’s not until you’re huffing for breath that he sees fit to dignify you with a response.

“Man might be able to overcome evil, on rare occasions,” he acknowledges. You think you may be gaining ground in this everlasting battle between wits. This has to be your reward for staying strong for so long, refusing to bend your ideals no matter how much easier it’d be to give in. A mustard seed that might yet flourish should you continue nourishing it.

He leans forward, that deplorable grin from earlier making its unwelcome return.

“But can you?”

#vampire x reader #yandere vampire x reader #alucard x reader #yandere alucard x reader #hellsing x reader #hellsing ultimate x reader #yandere hellsing ultimate x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #not sfw #my stuff

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booburry · 8 months

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Sam Coe Headcanon 2/??

SFW - I can think of these things too (surprisingly)

Spoilers probably.

Was thinking about what his life may have been like between leaving Lillian and finding Constellation. Obviously this is a huge time gap and more to come, but my mind was focused on their ship, support and financial stability.

In regards to the ship him and Cora always flew on, it would be 100% small and only repaired when necessary and with discount parts (I think of those cars with different colored panels from repairs)

Cora is given the only cot as her 'room'.

Sam either sleeps on the floor or in his pilot seat

The cockpit of their ship has 2 pilot seats so that Cora can be a co-pilot (truly) and for Sam to teach her how to fly.

She will have a few photos of her mom and even maybe one of Jacob - Sam hates it but doesn't want to push his issues onto his daughter so he just tries to not look in that area

At ANY given time, Cora has atleast 2 tools that are on the floor or her 'repairs & upgrades' are sometimes left half finished

Cora's desire to repair and upgrade the ship also came from their tight budget (and cause less spent on repairs = more book money)

As far as financial aid - no way in hell Lillian is sending child support money. Probably claiming that with Sam always putting Cora in danger, and living a life she doesn't approve of, that she won't help support it.

Also Jacob would, without a doubt, hold access to the Coe generational wealth hostage due to Sam 'keeping his granddaughter away from him'

I would think that, at a ridiculous hit against his pride, Sam would go to Jacob for money when they were in a bind and that is how Cora has (through brief moments) had some relationship with her Grandpa.

He hates every fucking second of those meetings

Sam is a lot more perceptive and intelligent than he lets in

He also easily falls into a habit of being willfully oblivious to things he doesn't want to accept; think Lillian beating a heartless cunt, Cora being way more capable than he things, how lonely he really is.

Cause a man with a heart as big and soft as his has to be lonely without having a partner to help him through the daily moments of life

The only time he is aware of this feeling is when he thinks he is failing being a parent for Cora; as he obviously has to pick up the role and responsibility for Lillian.

On an absolutely different note, kinda. I fucking hate Lillian (if you couldn't tell) and hats off to anybody who can find a single redeeming quality about her.

#starfield #sam coe #coemancer #cora coe #headcanons #starfield fanfiction #He never leaves my mind #he also needs a fucking hug #or three

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karlie-what-you-want · 3 months

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Hey! First I want to say your blog is awesome and I checkc back frequently for updates so thank you for that!

I do have a question tho and I don’t mean this to be rude at all to Taylor. I love her and all, but I sometimes wonder if anyone else has noticed that some of her actions are kinda…opposing? She speaks out for women and gays, but then also does nothing to stop her fans from hating on Karlie/Kaylor, and then goes around with Jackson Mahomes who was accused of sexual assault. Not to mention that Travis is homophobic himself. Have you ever felt like she was queerbaiting at any point?

Travis is definitely more problematic than her and is the majority of the problem. But at the same time, she’s choosing to stunt with him and everything despite her activism era. Just wanted to know your thoughts on this!

Thank you for your kind words. You’re so sweet! Always nice to know I’m appreciated 🥰

I can absolutely empathize with what you are feeling. I think a lot of us can. For years now I have looked up to Taylor and had faith in the morals that she proclaims to the world, and I was so proud of her for taking a real stand during Lover era. Her silence on important issues since that time has been discouraging, and these recent months with Ratty, TK, the Mahomes family, and the NFL have been very disappointing to watch unfold, to put it lightly.

I’ve heard it said by others around here, and I believe it’s true: people with as much money and power as Taylor and her peers operate on a different moral compass than the rest of us. They are willing to compromise in areas that we would find essential, with them likely seeing it as mere business, or not their problem. They still feel that they are strong leaders and good examples, not realizing the gravity of their choices; they’re just that disconnected. I would imagine that Taylor still feels like a model citizen, and that some of her choices come from ignorance due to her privileged position.

Is that an excuse? No, certainly not. Not to me, at least. But it is a good reminder for those of us who struggle to make sense of it all. It’s not necessarily that Taylor is making these choices maliciously—she’s not evil, nor is she perfect. She’s just living a different reality, which can be frustrating to watch from “the real world” where we live.

It is an internal battle for me, to be sure, and you’re not alone in feeling this way.

I will close this on a strange note, for which I apologize. For the sake of accuracy and honesty, I feel like I should say that of all the sins I hold against Travis, homophobia is not one of them. From what I have heard, his support (even at the bare minimum levels) for the LGBT community is one of his only redeeming qualities. But, if you have a source for the alleged homophobia, I’d certainly want to know so that I can correct myself.

(If anything, I feel that he might struggle with a similar internalized homophobia to that which we have seen in Taylor herself.)

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spnwriterreincarnate · 2 years

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Show Time - Part 1

Summary: When Sam Winchester calls you for help on a hunt, who are you to say no? Of course, things are a bit more complicated when the hunt involves you being fake-married to his ass of an older brother. How will you survive being a housewife, living in the suburbs, and being married to Dean?

"Say that again," you commanded, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. "Say it again slowly so I know that you know what you're saying."

Sam's lips pursed together and he barely contained an eye roll. "We need you to go undercover as Dean's wife."

"Okay, so you do know what you're asking. Are you feeling okay? Because-"

"Yeah, yeah, we get it!" Sam interrupted you, throwing his hands in the air. "You don't like my brother, you're sarcastic... Can we just skip to the part where you agree? There's a lot to brief you on."

"One quick question." That bitch face never left Sam, but he tilted his head in a 'yeah-sure-quick' fashion. "Why are you the one begging me and not Dean? I mean, where the hell even is he?"

"He's already on the case. The story right now is that he moved in a week early and the wife, you, is gonna join. We had to get him in and doing recon before someone else died."

You sighed and slowly sank down onto the motel room chair. You knew before Sam even asked that you would take the case. Hell, you broke every traffic law on the drive over when he said he needed your help; of course, he forgot to mention that you would have to pretend to be married to Dean Winchester of all people. But you wouldn't sit out when needed, couldn't.

"Alright, Sam, fill me in."

___

After a two hour debriefing you knew all you could without some extra research in the neighborhood. You were probably looking for a Shapeshifter, possibly a ghoul. Either way, the victims were left brutally murdered. So far two couples had died in the neighborhood, but the deaths were spaced out by a few months. And you also knew a bit more about the area you'd be staying. Sam had been kind enough to buy you a whole new wardrobe, 'stay-at-home-mom chic.' All in all, you were as prepared you could be.

Sam gave you the address and walked you to your car. "Dean's been mingling with the neighbors and invited to a block party tonight, so you'll be able to meet everybody. You're a house wife and Dean's in insurance. Try to get in with the other housewives."

"How 50's," you commented.

"Hence why we needed a girl," Sam agreed.

"Wait, Sam, why Dean?" The confused look on Sam's face told you he had no clue what you meant. "Why am I being fake married to Dean? Why not you? I mean, we're constantly at each other's throats."

Sam shrugged at that. "The neighborhood had seen me earlier when I was checking out the house for EMF. I told them I was the realtor."

"Great."

And with that you jumped into your car and started towards your new home, where your handsome hubby awaited you.

_____

Your new house, new base of operations, was just as picture perfect as the neighborhood itself. Manicured lawns, decorated porches, white picket fence. It was the suburbia of your nightmares.

The only thing that didn't go with the neighborhood was the sleek black car pulled into one of the driveways. If Dean had one redeeming quality, it was his taste in cars.

You pulled your beater of a truck in next to Dean's and hopped out. You grabbed your duffel back and slammed your door shut, then made your way to the entrance.

"Oh my god, Mrs. Winchester?" A shrill voice shouted from one of the other houses. You turned to the sound, forcing a cheery smile on your face.

You tugged at your cardigan, slightly worried you would instantly be pegged as an outsider. "Hi!" You waved to the blonde woman standing on the porch of the house next to yours. "You can call me Y/N!"

"Finally! A name! Your Deanie has been so secretive about you! We started to think you didn't exist." You forced out a laugh and tried not to frown at the use of the name Deanie. You may have hated the man, but that was still your fake husband.

"Well he probably just wants to keep me to himself. Speaking of, I haven't seen him in a week now, so I'm going to let myself in. I'll see you tonight..."

"Tori!"

"Tori," you finished, smiling at her.

She watched as you went to the door of your house, and you tried to be oblivious to it.

You unlocked the door and instantly smelled something delicious. "Honey, I'm home!" You shouted, slamming the door shut behind you.

Loud footsteps approached you and soon Dean Winchester stood at the other end of the hallway. "You've got to be kidding," he groaned. "We didn't know any other chick hunters?"

"Guess not," you said, giving him a flat smile. "You're welcome for coming to help, by the way."

"Look, I'm getting close to figuring out which of these psychos is the actual killer-psycho, so maybe you just head on out and I'll make something up."

"Yeah, 'cause that wouldn't be suspicious," you snorted. "Like it or not, we're stuck together."

"Well I don't like it."

"Yeah, no shit."

You both just stood for a moment, glaring at each other.

You broke first. "Alright what's that smell?"

"Chili for the block party."

"You're making chili?"

"I've got a kitchen!"

"Okay, don't get so defensive," you laughed. "I just thought I was the housewife."

"I thought I was the-" Dean repeated in a mocking high pitched tone, "shut it!" He then stomped his way back to the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes at him and dropped your bag onto the floor. You stood in place a moment, thinking of your next move. As much as you disliked Dean and loved pissing him off, you weren't going to save lives if you were at each other's throats.

Time to be... nice.

You made your way to the kitchen, where Dean was standing in front of a huge pot. It did smell damn good. And the kitchen was beautiful, tan marble counter tops, beautiful mahogany cabinets. You couldn't boil an egg and even you were tempted to cook.

"So what have you learned so far?" You asked, setting yourself on one of tall chairs by the counter.

Dean was silent for a moment, no doubt trying to find something witty to say. But, like always, words failed him and all he was left to do was answer. "Everybody has a different theory about the murders and suspects each other. The Marshalls saw the McRoys hanging out with the dead couple the night they died, but the Smiths thought the Marshalls hated the dead couple. And the Trumans just think the whole neighborhood was in on it."

You were silent as you went over his words, before finally saying, "are those really their names?"

"Well the Trumans are really the Trundles, but the rest are true."

"Jesus," you breathed out. "Anybody seem suspicious?"

"Not particularly," Dean shrugged. "But tonight's the first chance to really test anyone." He nodded towards a large pile of silverware on the counter. "I said I'd provide the forks."

"Smart," you commented, forcing yourself to give the compliment. "I guess I'll go shower and get ready for tonight."

"Shower's upstairs."

At that you left the kitchen, grabbing your bag and heading up the stairs.

The entire house was nice, just somewhat bland. It lacked any kind of character. The beige walls and white carpets were a nice change of pace to the usual dark, dirty, and stained ones that decorated every motel room, but it just felt stale. More than a week in a place like this and you'd surely go crazy.

Those feelings did not, however, transfer to the shower. A clean bathroom was not something you saw everyday, hell it wasn't something you saw every month. But damn, this bathroom with it's sparkling white porcelain and tiled shower floor devoid of mold... That was a thing of beauty. The water pressure alone forced a moan out of you.

After taking the longest shower of your life, and never running out of hot water, you changed into something slightly fancier than a sweater and jeans. When Sam had gone shopping for you, he knew exactly what to look for. You slipped into a knee-length, white summer dress, one with small sunflowers decorating the fabric. You had a pair of white shoes to go with it, then made your way downstairs.

Laughter stopped you before you entered the kitchen. You recognized Dean's laugh, it was obnoxious enough, but the others?

Only one way to find out...

You forced a smile and entered the kitchen, eyes going over the two new guests.

"Hey there sweetheart," Dean greeted you. "These two are our neighbors to the right, John and Ross."

"Nice to meet you guys," you said, extending a hand.

"Oh get that out of here! We're practically family!" The one man- John - said, pulling you into a hug.

After getting a slightly less enthusiastic hug from Ross, you moved to Dean's side, who slipped an arm right around your waist, no hesitation. Say what you wanted about Dean Winchester, but the man knew how to put on an act.

"So, Mrs. Winchester-"

"Y/N, please!" You interrupted. "Jeez, baby, did you tell nobody my name?"

"Oh he was so sneaky about you, so hush hush," Ross said. "Most of us thought you didn't even exist!"

You laughed at that and knocked your hip into Dean's in an obvious show of flirtation. "Just trying to keep me for yourself."

"Can you blame me?"

"You two are just too cute," Ross sighed.

"Y/N, do you like to read?" John asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, but were stopped short by Ross. "Oh, honey, the poor girl just got here! You can recruit her for your little book club later."

"Book club?" Dean asked.

"John and all the girls," Ross explained. "You guys meet what, like every other week? It's really just an excuse to drink wine and gossip."

"We're reading War and Peace if you'd like to join. We only started the book a week ago."

"That sounds really nice," you accepted, smiling warmly. "I can only clean the house so much every day. A book and some company would be great."

John gave you a small smile in return, then wrapped his arm around Ross'. "Well, we better get going," Ross sighed. "The party starts in an hour but people always go out early. And I refuse to be the last ones there."

You and Dean saw the two men out, keeping your arms wrapped around each other.

As soon as the door closed you split apart.

"Book club, huh?" Dean asked.

"Sounds like a chance to get some dirt," you shrugged.

Dean nodded at that. He had his hands in his pockets and rocked from his heel to the balls of his feet, face scrunched up in thought. "Uh, one quick thing about tonight..."

"Yeah?"

"Well, uh, see, I didn't know Sam would be sending you, so I might have, uh, talked a big game to some of the boys in the neighborhood..."

"Meaning?"

"I told them I had a hot wife who couldn't keep her hands off me," Dean finally got out. "So, you'll have to play it up." For a moment Dean looked ashamed, but after seeing the look of pure outrage on your face, his own features brightened. "And maybe cut the dress a little shorter. I want to see my woman's legs."

With a full out self-satisfied smirk, Dean left you in the foyer, fuming.

If Dean wanted a handsy wife, then a handsy wife he'd get.

You were going to make him regret this.

#Supernatural #Supernatural Oneshot #Supernatural Imagine #DeanXReader #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #SPN #Enemies to lovers #Show Time #Part 1 #Dean Winchester X Reader

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magicalhideoutengineer · 4 months

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It all started in December of 2018, with a sneak peek on social media from the author and screenwriter of the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them franchise, J.K. Rowling, who, after announcing the completion of her newest screenplay, posted the following phrase on her Twitter: “Rio de Janeiro had better brace itself.”

A month earlier, Rowling had already made a mention about 1930’s Rio de Janeiro in a tweet that led to curious speculation from Brazilian fans of the franchise: what did old Rio have to do with the creator of Harry Potter?

In the following weeks, it was discovered that the author had set her newest film creation in the marvelous city of Rio. The project’s production team, following her lead, began to plan trips to Brazil in order to film certain older areas of downtown Rio and use them as backgrounds for the 3rd episode film of the film series. And Brazil Production Services was the Brazilian production company chosen to head the production unit in Brazil of this international mega-blockbuster.

When Warner Brothers contacted BPS, the job at hand involved the mapping and scanning of dozens of buildings and areas in downtown Rio de Janeiro, where several buildings from the city’s colonial, imperial, and turn-of-the-century periods are located. This material would then be used by the film’s visual effects team to digitally reconstruct the city circa 1930 by way of computer graphics. The idea was to do something big, exploring the city’s beautiful backdrop that could transport the fans to a magical version of Rio de Janeiro of that time.

However, the coronavirus arrived in Brazil in March of 2020, causing the production plan and the script to undergo dramatic changes.

Actor Eddie Redmayne, in an interview, spoke about the final version of the film that was released worldwide in April 2022: “The whole section that is set in Bhutan was meant to be set in Brazil … we were meant to travel and go and shoot there. Then COVID hit.” The actor lamented the cancellation of Rio as a main location – and so did we at BPS…

And so, what was supposed to be an intricate shoot in Rio showcasing some of its most interesting architecture turned out to be a production with only one of these locations. This location was a quick shot at an iconic location in Rio, in which the magical community of the city celebrates the victory of Vicência, a character played by the Brazilian actress Maria Fernanda Cândido.

The location in question was none other than the big house at Parque Lage in Rio de Janeiro, a world-renowned location with that also features Rio’s famous statue of Christ the Redeemer in the background.

The beautiful house was scanned by the BPS team using LIDAR technology, which, according to the company’s Executive Manager Valéria Costa, is a tool widely used for building digital environments nowadays. The technology captures and measures properties of reflected light falling upon structures and, from that data, accurately documents a building’s 3D characteristics, providing the post-production team with high quality raw material to work on for the creation of digital backgrounds.

Anyone who blinks might miss the lightning-fast appearance of Rio in the final version of the film, but at least it gave a taste, however small, of Rio’s beautiful scenery. In short, after months of doubt as to whether or not Rio would be the setting for the film, the image below was what was left of the author’s original conception in the final form of the film.

Although disappointed with the shrinking of Brazil’s participation in the project, we look back on the experience philosophically affirming that one scene is better than no scene at all, right?

#fantastic beasts #secrets of dumbledore

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dededaio · 1 year

Note

What's your opinion on the Leongar/Beast Pack hate that has surfaced in recent months?

i certainly understand why some might've not been huge fans of them but i feel like a lot of strong "hate" is honestly unwarranted.

a lot of people criticizing them approach em from the wrong angle and ignore that a lot of the same trappings they have can be applied to antagonistic fractions from the past, while also ignoring things that beast pack, perhaps, did better than any other opposing force in kirby.

they actually FEEL like a themed group of characters opposing kirby, instead of just "main villain + 1-3 henchmen" like in previous modern games.

there's enough variety in common mook soldiers as well as each of the high ranking generals stand out in both design and function (with all due respect to mage sisters but i honestly don't get what is their hierarchy in relation to each other except that zan is the "leader" i guess?). gorimondo gathers resources, forgo dedede and sillydillo are responsible for search and capture, clawroline is responsible for investigating areas. their characterization is also strongly defined by their animations and fighting styles, which make them feel way more distinct from each other

but most importantly, the thing with beast pack, even if this can come across as a cop-out to some. ...but they aren't really bad guys. they are nice people. err. animals. stuck being manipulated by bigger bad. the fact that they don't have "strong motivations" or "cool style" or whatever seems deliberate to me. they are thrown together because they are just a bunch of animals puppeteered by bigger bad.

and this brings me to the most overhated aspect of beast pack of all. leongar. leongar is SO hated on and i just. don't get it? the most common argument i've seen is that "he's way less interesting than haltmann and hyness despite forcing us to care about him more than either". and i don't get it.

haltmann is boring as shit. people care about him because of his funny sob sob backstory that is not pronounced in the main story at all. the only reason you would want to give a shit about him is to read a bunch of flavor text.

hyness is admittedly more memorable than either haltmann or leongar, but the way his character was handled in star allies is atrocious. he's at first portrayed as abusive jerkwad obsessed with his religion and cult without any redeeming qualities and then boom somehow we should care about him and mages being saved and given second chance, for some reason? and with mages it's a bit easier to sympathize due to it being shown that hyness treats zan terribly, but game gave me 0 reasons to believe that hyness should be spared or redeemed in any shape or form.

say what you will about leongar and beast pack, but:

leongar is by far simpler yes, but also way less messy, his tragedy is easy to understand and is actually shown. he's a good person stuck in bad circumstances he didn't really deserve. he is not a villain on his own accord, he never had bad intentions, he was simply manipulated into whole plot by id-f86.

we actually have more of a reason to care about saving him because beast pack is SHOWN to be genuinely good via credits images and info that clawlroline nurtured him to health while he was unconscious after closing the portal between two worlds. kirby is not just being kind but also repaying them a favor.

of course, people can dislike them for whatever reasons they choose. this is just my personal two cents on the matter. i think game definitely could've executed their story better. but as it stands i think it's still good enough.

#klu's asks

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autumnwoodsdreamer · 8 months

Text

WiP Wednesday

Sorry. This is just me craving that vintage Mandalorian season 1 vibe

. . . . .

The ice flats of Maldo Kreis were once oceans and forests.

It was beautiful, it was warm; there were trees and flowers and animals that played and danced under the sun.

Then something or the other happened, the planet’s axis tilted and it all froze solid as rock; the creatures dependant on warmth died off and the ones already built for cold multiplied and overwhelmed the world.

The records couldn’t say for certain whether or not a native people once dwelled on the planet. Some believed there had to have been, but any evidence lay beneath tonnes of impenetrable ice, buried for the rest of eternity.

Ancient, unverifiable history aside, Maldo Kreis’ only redeeming quality these days was its location in the Outer Rim. It resided near Tatooine, ironically orbiting one of its suns; it brushed a hyperspace lane rather cozily; and neither Empire nor Republic ever deigned to bother themselves with it given its lack of interesting resources and its only permanent population consisting of old whalers kicking around in lonely, far-flung settlements.

It had no spaceport, no trading hub, no industry (unless one counted the fishing), but it was close to everything and it possessed the one thing the majority of travellers in these parts sought most keenly.

A cantina.

It was a gross exaggeration to say bounty hunters always found their quarries in cantinas, but things often worked out that way. If they weren’t presently drowning their sorrows or burning time via fights and other vices, then it was a safe bet that either the proprietor or the patrons had information—information easily unlocked with a few loose credits.

The Mythrol was a cantina-crawler.

His last known location was the watering hole in Mos Eisley. He hung around nearly a full week, playing rigged games of sabaac and the like, until he swindled the wrong person and almost got his physical features rearranged. Chaos broke out and he absconded in the confusion.

Despite his chosen vocation as a high-stakes gambler, he was a coward: he would’ve taken the first scrap of transport off-world he could reach and a quick check of the local shuttle schedules narrowed the search down to either Nal Hutta or Maldo Kreis.

While the Mythrol hadn’t demonstrated the greatest intelligence in the galaxy, one had to be a legendary breed of stupid to wander anywhere near Nal Hutta with an active bounty on their head and a laundry list of debts.

So the middle-of-nowhere ice world it was.

As soon as the Razor Crest dropped from hyperspace, the tracking fob wedged in beside the fuel gauge awoke, instantly validating Din’s hunch.

He breathed out in relief, trepidation dissipating—he had yet to rid his cloak of the stench of Nal Hutta’s swamp soup from his last sojourn six cycles ago.

The time between blinks clipped shorter and shorter as he breached atmosphere. Positional data suggested the Northern Hemisphere, so Din adjusted course accordingly.

Beginning descent, the layers of grey quickly cancelled out the ambient glow from sun and stars, accentuating the artificial light of the cockpit and the controls. The ‘Crest juddered and bucked, but the old ship barrelled on without let-up—it had weathered hail and hell a thousand times over, it could handle some snow.

Gradually, the dense clouds dissolved, exposing a tundra without end or border in sight. The viewport and the helmet’s visor narrowed the scene but Din saw more than enough to paint a vast, vacuous landscape.

He cycled through the landing procedure and set down in the shipyards, just off from the port: an area distinguished from the surrounding flats less by the fishing paraphernalia and more by the unnatural lake of murky sludge seeping around the parked ships.

Din set down as far away from the sludge as possible, refusing to trade one swamp for another.

He went through the cycle of switching everything off, flicking switches without even glancing at them.

It all stopped.

The engines wound down, metal pinged as it cooled, wind howled and lashed; his world fell still but not settled, not silent.

He sat there a moment—not pinned but not pulled, not despondent but not driven. He only was: nothing more, nothing less.

Snow drifted across the viewport, falling one way before the wind dictated another. He watched it in a vague way, his mind on other matters.

This was the last stop for the trip. After this job, he would return to Nevarro, collect his earnings, deliver them to the covert, pick his next commissions, refuel the ship and go again.

And again and again and again.

He had heard of people who faced the endless and went mad.

He was not one of them

He feared the ending.

It would come.

He was sure of himself, determined, but he was no fool. One day, a blade would strike too deep, he would lose one ounce of blood too many, or a concussion would put him to sleep permanently. One day, he would meet a challenge or an opponent he couldn’t outsmart or outmanoeuvr; he would lose his footing, draw a heartbeat too late, miss…

And if he outran all that?

Well.

Then it was just a question of how long until his back broke for good.

A sigh dispelled his straying thoughts. They did that, more and more these days; he put it down to getting older.

But the never ending wasn’t ending today.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #my writing #fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #WiP #wip wednesday #work in progress

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neon-moon-beam · 10 months

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I've lost any interest in Submas because of what the fanbase did to Volo, stripped him of all his redeeming qualities to turn him into a Ghetsis clone. And yet no matter how many times I see it, my heart inwardly screams "LOOK HOW THEY MASSACRED MY BOY".

Oh my god yes. Volo has been done dirty so badly by the Submas fandom and other people who enjoy him to the point of it being the default.

Volo is a fairly complex character. He can’t be reduced to “unhinged and will hurt people when given the chance lol” or whatever else the fandom likes to do all for the sake of making things angstier, especially when it comes to Submas. In-game, he’s in more of a grey area and comes off as a character with issues having a bad moment, not an overall bad person. I'd put him somewhere around the same level as Archie and Maxie in terms of how much of a villain he is:

-Not entirely a bad guy, just bad ideas, bad solutions to problems (that might only be a personal problem for him or a select few, we know he had a rough life but we aren’t told how or why, but it has created his entire worldview and motivation)

-Might not have actually followed through with his plan anyway (he does have things he genuinely cares about, and say what you will about salty and rude Togepis in Hisui but he had high enough friendship with one to get a Togekiss)

-His feelings of being wronged in life and wanting to hold someone or something accountable, get answers, maybe an apology or to make things right is a fairly common human experience. He just lives in a world with magical monsters where confronting one with the ability to instantly change things is a definite possibility.

-Unlikely Arceus would have listened to him, Giratina did not want to listen to him (and Giratina is the failsafe when Dialga and Palkia are out of commission), so even though he appeared to have the means to reshape the world, he really did not

-Accepted the player character defeated him, stopped antagonizing, and probably left Hisui to sort out his issues

-Also is NOT responsible for Ingo being in Hisui (I did make a huge in-depth post about how he could have gotten there, and the evidence does NOT stack up in favor of Volo being the cause)

Sometimes it feels like people didn’t interact with PLA in any capacity and just go with whatever the fandom says about these characters, or else just don’t care about canon whatsoever, and that can be really alienating to other fans. Especially when other fans do like the canon characterization and all they can find is ooc depictions, bad takes, and anything else where it's essentially Volo in appearance only.

I know some people have said they never want to see Volo interact with Submas ever again, and I agree. Cr*zytr*inshipping and tr*inwr*ckshipping are built on ableism, the idea that mental illness is “scary”, and grossly mischaracterizing Volo, and at least Emmet (not sure about Ingo because I refuse to bother with content containing these ships or even interactions between these characters).

Volo deserves so much better. I’m sorry fandom spaces are not kind to him.

#sorry to go off but I'm done with people doing these things and making people unable to interact with fan works of their favorite characters #I watched the fandom just completely do a disservice to Submas and Volo and then many of them moved onto Nemona and Arven #It's like they can't handle characters being multifaceted or something...gotta reduce them to 2D cardboard cutouts of one trait...#...and the one trait is often actually ooc or just taken so far out of context and...#...it ruins it for everyone who actually interacted with the source material and enjoys the characters as they are!

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probablyhuntersmom · 8 months

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if that hexsquad each piloted a voltron lion, who do you think would pilot each lion?

Aaah!! An opportunity to answer an ask that is about my two biggest brainrot shows! 😍

I remain here for VLD because of its premise, for what it stood for before Tim Hedrick - the Head of Story - got fucked over and had his show bible thrown out...Also coz Studio Mir~~

When you wanna compare the paladins to Hexsquad it's like, having to look at what element in nature each Lion stands for and also each witch's deepest wish. And how the characters with their traits would match with the traits that the Lions are looking for. And I'll not only be referencing the new paladins, but also their predecessors: including perhaps the only redeemable thing about S8 which were the old paladins' speeches from the astral plane scenes.

And I'm obviously going with the S1 and S2 pilot configurations, not the post-Lion Switch config.

Starting with who will "form the head":

The Black Lion wants her pilot to learn about control and calmness, which is why she could go perfectly with Shiro's main conflict with his PTSD.

It works very well for Willow for this precise reason:

She and Shiro also share the habit of not wanting to rely on others to help them with their problems, i.e. wanting to stay strong and put up a constant front of portraying strength. We've seen how both characters behave when having panic attacks. So lol, Willow in this universe wouldn't be using plant magic.

One might think that Yellow is the match for her after hearing her deepest wish:

And sure she could express the exact same wish if she were a Paladin...but the Black Lion would pick up on what her area of growth is i.e. the goal to be in control isn't a goal to be reached all on your own. The Lions have their requirements, but they are sentient and can telepathically get a read of an individual's unique challenges and darkest fears. Being the Guardian Spirit representing the cosmos and sky, Black can go nicely with Willow's nurtured leadership qualities and her desire for strength and wisdom.

Next, the arms :

Red is definitely for Amity.

Red is the Lion that wants you to follow your instincts with determination, to defy what's expected or imposed on you if needed. (ah, but I hear you thinking...doesn't this fit Hunter as well? More on this later)

Look at the similarities between her and Keith's arcs:

Both were not entrusted with the space to explore what they wanted in life (imagine...Iverson *could've* been a parental figure for Keith, but he reflects how the education and foster care systems often are IRL), and were expected to fit into a box: which was to their detriment. They were determined to not let their inner fire be put out.

Bonus that they're also rather seasoned fighters, for their respective ages:

The Green Lion might choose Gus. Being a user of illusion magic, Gus's arc has the theme of truth vs illusion, and Green wants a pilot who is curious and has a daring intellect. Who better than the little guy who is curious to know all there is about the human realm, who wants to see what is out there beyond the Isles. Green is best for stealth operations and Gus would be a natural at that, he'd be the best tech guy too!

His deepest wish nicely matches the realization that Pidge had after she met the Olkari: about being connected to the universe and to everything in it (that's what the Forest element symbolizes via the whole "network of roots and branches" concept, which also reflects the imagery of the nervous system linked to the brain. Both Pidge and Gus are prodigies/geniuses).

And having an ambassador role can't really be carried out from the safety and comfort of hiding in your comfort zone of one's insecurity:

Finally, the legs:

I vote Blue for Luz because her deepest wish:

goes so well with this exact line from Blaytz, Lance's predecessor (when we finally hear about what the Blue Lion represents):

Blue is the teamwork lion, kind of the opposite of Green. Easygoing, bold and spontaneous like water. And it's no coincidence that she's the friendliest lion. Luz can befriend anyone because of her extraordinary empathy and I have good reason to suspect this was also the intended arc for Lance...:

Yellow is the morale lion, sort of the opposite of Red.

BUT! Hunter is very interesting since, at least to me, he embodies both Red and Yellow traits which at first glance are *supposed* to be in conflict with one another (this is a sign that he is magnificently well-written. Sorry Keith and Hunk and everyone in the space show, beyond S3 :'D).

I mean c'mon, look at my two kiddos:

It's really important to note that Hunter and Amity's deepest wishes are essentially the same. Which is why it's also easy for me to visualize Hunter piloting Red.

But it's kinda unmistakable: the writers wanted us to see that Hunter's strength is his kind, loving heart (Yellow paladin traits).

His courage and determination (Red paladin traits)

are only the next priority and exist to make the case for his kind heart, in my opinion. Because he wants to live, not just survive...in order to keep learning and giving and loving, to basically remain in a relationship with the world instead of being in isolation.

It's also a bit eerie that Yellow is the Guardian Spirit of Earth/Land, and well..a certain grimwalker was literally grown out of the earth. Hmm........

And wowzah if you look here:

it's a contrast to the Golden Guard being Belos's instrument to keep the Isles as divided as possible, under the guise of promoting unity, with Belos even going as far as coining a name like "The Day of Unity"...during which he wanted to carry out a plan of causing even more major division among the people of the Boiling Isles, via literal genocide. Yeah, yikes. Hunter's future in palisman-carving certainly brings unity born out of love, opposing Belos's forces of division born out of fear. Gyrgan is right in what he says above: unity is born from love.

Anyway this sweet child can really feel like both Keith and Hunk combined into one character. Sometimes he recklessly charges ahead, sometimes he's very nervous about a ton of things. He manages to be the pathetic wet cat but also the most huggable warm teddy bear, lmao.

But if he had been brought up in a healthy and loving home - which is what Hunk had:

him as Yellow's choice would be crystal clear.

Thank goodness Hunter DOES end up in this place though, surrounded by the best found family!

PS: Moringmark had a different configuration for who would pilot who, he just based it on matching colour codes haha (link)

#Hunter: ''I'M A LEG!!!''#loz's ask box #utter brainrot hell

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